


Run That Mouth

by Madeleine_Ward



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Bottom Steve Rogers, Come Swallowing, Come as Lube, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Play, Don’t copy to another site, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Filthy, Handcuffs, M/M, Mouthy Sub Steve Rogers, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Playful Dom Bucky Barnes, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 00:06:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19712287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madeleine_Ward/pseuds/Madeleine_Ward
Summary: Steve swallows hard, sifts through his sex-addled brain to pluck out the words that will get him what he needs. The only coherent thing rattling around up there is 'Bucky' and 'cock' and a growing sense of desperation, with a vague chaser of 'I can’t feel my hands.'“I want my asshole boyfriend to let me get off…don’t fucking care how...”The slap of metal connecting with overheated flesh resounds in Steve’s ears before the sting blooms across his thigh. He gasps, arching into the sharp pleasure-pain.“If your 'asshole boyfriend' doesn’t hear you run that mouth,” Bucky rubs over the pinkened handprint rising to the surface of Steve’s skin, “you don’t get off at all.”





	Run That Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> So my beta and I have a system, the 'Erector Scale', on which she rates how arousing my sex scenes are. I have been writing for this woman for YEARS, and have never attained a perfect score from her...Until this story.
> 
> I've finally done it. I have finally been awarded the elusive 5/5 Dicks.
> 
> This is my sexual magnum opus. I need to go lie down.
> 
> Don’t look for plot, you won’t find any. Straight up FuckFic.

“I swear to _God,_ Buck, if you don’t start moving…”

Steve strains against the cuffs anchoring his wrists above his head; tries in vain to thrust his hips upwards to create some friction, _any_ friction, but it’s futile. It’s _been_ futile for what feels like a fucking lifetime, and his stilted attempts at taking some modicum of power back only serve to grow the smirk pulling at Bucky’s perfect, stupid mouth.

For all Steve knows, for all his perception of time has been skewed by the desperate ache in his dick, Bucky could have been sitting there for _hours_ at this point, his full weight resting square on Steve’s pelvis; square on top of where Steve’s rigid, dripping cock lies trapped between them. His thighs are clamped down hard enough around Steve’s hips to make any sort of movement an impossibility, and it’s all flesh against hot, naked, glorious flesh…

...And the smug motherfucker won’t move _._

“What’re you gonna do? You gonna _fight_ me?” He grins down at Steve, straight up defiance and _or what?_ He reaches forward to tug on Steve’s restraints, reinforced chain clanging against the iron detailing of the headboard. “Last I checked, you couldn’t fuckin’ move, pal.”

It’s brazen, the amount of joy he’s garnering from his methodical, deliberate take-down of Steve’s composure. He’s practically giddy with it; eyes lit up from the inside, lips upturned and staying that way, and somewhere in the fog of his frustration it occurs to Steve that Bucky is – just quietly – absolutely resplendent like this. Staring him down, radiating command and control and sheer fucking _prowess…_ Steve is _so_ goddamn here for it. Bucky’s looking at him like he wants to ruin him, power thrumming just shy of the surface of his touch, and it’s dragging Steve right back to that bare-bones flat in Brooklyn where they’d first started playing at this.

Way back then, back when Steve was a metric fuck-ton of _fight me_ crammed into ninety pounds of indignant twink, all he’d wanted was to feel like he wasn’t made of glass; to be handled like he could hold his own, like his body could withstand anything that came at it, because that’s how he _felt,_ regardless of his reality. He’d put it to Bucky one night as they made love on the couch, Bucky’s body moving slow and measured above him, his hands roaming gentle over Steve’s body as he rocked into him. ‘ _You don’t gotta be so careful with me…’_ he’d ventured, searching Bucky’s face for reaction, ‘ _you can be rough…if you want to…’_

Bucky’s brow had knotted, his expression caught somewhere between wary and wanting. ‘ _Is that what you want?’ _

Steve hadn’t known how to put any of it into words then, the what and why of this need simmering low in his belly. Instead, he’d wrapped his fingers around Bucky’s wrist and guided his hand up to span the column of his throat; held it there for just a moment, watching Bucky’s eyes widen. He moved Bucky’s hand up to the crown of his head, threading his fingers through Bucky’s and curling them into a fist to tug on his hair. By the time he was pressing Bucky’s nails into his chest and dragging them down, Bucky’s breathing had turned shallow, his hips giving involuntary twitches. The only words Steve had been capable of forcing out of himself in the moment had been a too-small, too-desperate _‘please, Bucky…’_ but it had been enough.

All Bucky had ever wanted was to be the one who gave Steve what he needed. 

So he had.

He’d given it to him in the language of teeth and nails and open palms against his flesh; cautious and hesitant to begin with, but spurred on by the pleasured, guttural sounds he was wrenching from Steve. He’d fucked him with abandon like Steve could take it; left promises red and raised over the canvas of his skin, _you’re mine and you’re alive and you’re fuckin’ staying that way,_ and Steve had come so hard he’d actually blacked out for a second. It had been all the convincing either of them needed that _yeah,_ this was a thing now; any lingering doubt Bucky had about the whole thing erased by the wrecked, elated ‘thank you’ Steve had murmured once he’d come around.

Steve’s body couldn’t keep a secret back then, and it was their saving grace that no one batted an eyelash if that Rogers boy was covered head to toe in the middle of summer, what with his constantly ailing health and those lungs that just could _not_ afford to catch another chill.

Post-serum, the story is a little different. These days, Bucky can work him over within an inch of his sanity, and come sun-up the only thing Steve has to show for it is a deeply sated grin, and the swagger of someone who got their ass handed to them in the best possible way.

“You goin’ somewhere with this tie-me-down shit, or is it just posturing?” Steve goads, as if he’s not the one flat on his back, sweating and shaking and sucking in air like his lungs never got the memo about the upgrade.

Bucky huffs a laugh. “You mean the ‘tie-me-down shit’ that’s got your cock drooling all over you?” He drags his thumb through the precum pooling on Steve’s stomach and lifts it to Steve’s mouth; pushes it between Steve’s parted lips and holds it down hard against his tongue.

Steve moans low in his throat; starts sucking on instinct, because that’s a part of Bucky’s body in his mouth right now and that’s what he _does,_ what he thinks he might just have been made for. It’s not easy with the way Bucky’s pressing down on his tongue, but he can taste himself on the touch-warm metal and he works at it, hollowing his cheeks and swallowing around it. Bucky’s breathing hitches just a little, his stare turning faintly glassy as it locks on Steve’s mouth, and Steve thinks that just _maybe_ he’s got him now. He’ll erode Bucky’s self-control this shameless _‘hey, remember all those times I’ve done this exact thing to your dick?’_ and Bucky will snap; fold him in half and blow his back out like he’s been aching for…

…But then Bucky’s pulling his thumb out of Steve’s mouth with a knowing grin and shifting off his pelvis entirely, moving his weight to hover above Steve on hands and knees.

“All this time, and you _still_ think you can call the shots…” Bucky tuts, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Your shield don’t mean shit in here, Rogers..."

He grasps Steve’s jaw and holds it tight, his voice dropping to gravel, "...You get up on this bed? You ain’t the captain anymore. Understand?”

If Steve moans in response, it’s swallowed by the commanding press of Bucky’s mouth against his own. Steve doesn’t know if he can even call it ‘kissing’ – Bucky’s claiming him, consuming him, taking him apart with the stroke of his tongue, with the trapping and tugging of Steve’s lips between his teeth…and Jesus, the _sounds_ Bucky makes, like he’s fucking him already. Maybe that’s what this is, Steve thinks. Bucky’s mouth is fucking his, because there’s not a single part of Bucky’s body that can’t be weaponized for sex, because Bucky _is_ sex, and his body is so close to rubbing against Steve’s and his hair is falling across Steve’s face, and Steve could come like this.

…He’s not dumb enough to think Bucky will _let_ him, but he could _._

By the time Bucky pulls back, Steve is boneless with need, breathing hard and writhing against his restraints. The only points of contact between their bodies are where Bucky’s arms and knees cage him in, and where the tips of his hair sweep across Steve’s skin, making him shiver. He’s crawling slowly, languidly backwards, further down Steve’s body, driving Steve closer to that desperate edge he’s been ready to fall off of all night.

“Come on, Buck…you gotta give me _something_ …” He sighs, squirms, rocks his hips upwards but Bucky’s _just_ out of reach, and Steve’s not above begging anymore. Just as he thinks he’ll give it up and start pleading, wanton and shameless like only Bucky can make him, he feels Bucky’s teeth clamp down _hard_ on the side of his pec.

“Oh _fuck_ …yes… _that…”_ He moans wrecked and ragged, arching into Bucky’s bite. And it is a _bite,_ unapologetic and authoritative and every bit of _you’ll take whatever I fucking give you_. Bucky works his way down, dragging teeth over ribs, stomach, hip bones. He gnaws at Steve, runs his hands over the shallow bruises blooming in the wake of his mouth; his chest swelling at the way Steve whimpers for it, mindless pleas of _harder_ and _more_ and _right there_ tripping off his lips in a near-constant stream.

“You sound like a whore…” Bucky smirks against his skin, like it’s his greatest accomplishment to have reduced Steve to this, to a writhing, moaning collage of his dental imprint.

“You _make_ me sound like a whore…” Steve sighs, flexing his fingers against the pinprick-numbness starting in his bound hands. “ _Jesus_ , Bucky, just… _fuck_ me already, you asshole…” 

It would have a lot more impact if it wasn’t quite so breathy; if there wasn’t a laugh simmering just under the surface, because he’s so fucking drunk on this, on the fact that they somehow clawed their way back to this. All those years; ice and HYDRA and rebuilding ‘us’ from the dust upward, and now they’re _here_. Here, back at it like Brooklyn was yesterday; like Steve is just Steve, and Bucky is just Bucky, and the most pressing issue they face is how long Bucky’s gonna drag this out before he lets Steve get off.

Bucky looks up at him, eyes bright. He moves to lay between Steve’s legs, hands grasped firmly at Steve’s hips as he kisses a torrid trail up his inner thigh. When he reaches the base of Steve’s dick, he stops; just waits there, breathing warm against him, until Steve is cussing a blue streak and trying to buck his hips up against his hold. Only then does Bucky run his tongue up the length of him, unhurried and too-soft, and Steve makes a sound like he might just be dying.

Bucky flicks his tongue in feather-light strokes up Steve’s shaft and over the head; wraps a hand around him and presses a chaste kiss right over the slit. He sinks down to mouth gently at Steve’s balls, his tongue dipping lower as Steve splays his thighs out wide, panting a breathy litany of _God, yes, finally_. Bucky kneads at his thighs, up close to his groin, working his way up until he’s thumbing at Steve’s ass cheeks, spreading them apart.

“Hey, Stevie…?” He gazes up from under ridiculous eyelashes, up from his home between Steve’s legs. “…Can I ask you something?”

God, that _face,_ that smile, those eyes…it’s almost enough to make Steve forget how painfully turned on he is. _Almost._ “What?”

Bucky heaves a deep sigh. “I just…” He shakes his head, his smile taking on a sinister edge that makes Steve’s stomach drop. “…I just wanna know if you _actually_ thought it’d be that easy?”

And then he’s pulling his hands away, pushing himself back up onto his knees, and Steve can _feel_ the way his own face just crumbles.

“Mother _fucker…_ ” He grits his teeth so hard, the muscles in his neck spasm. “You fucking cocktease…” 

Bucky’s as good as laughing at him as he settles himself upright, sitting back on his knees between Steve’s splayed thighs. “Now, is that any way to talk to the love of your life?”

“I’m gonna kill you,” Steve groans, “I swear to God…I’m gonna do it this time…won’t even feel bad about it.”

“ _Mm,_ tell it _slow_ , baby,” Bucky’s grin is pure self-satisfaction, “I love it when you talk murder.”

“Fuck you.”

Bucky’s eyes spark at that, glint something striking and wicked. He arches his back, slow and intentional, lifting his hands to drag through his hair. It’s dirty tactics – his body is poetry in motion, and he knows exactly how to move it; knows that Steve’s eyes will drag over the stretch and flex of his muscles as he gathers his hair up and fixes it into a loose knot on top of his head, reaching to pull an elastic from the bedside table.

Steve wants to look away on principle, solely to deny Bucky the satisfaction…but god _damn._ That messy fucking bun undoes him every time. Watching Bucky play with his hair, pulling it back off his face, uncovering that jawline; those stupid little strands that always seem to slip out in _just_ the right places to frame his stupid-beautiful face…It’s the most inane turn-on, and it never fucking fails.

“Fuck _me_?” Bucky arches a brow at him. “Hadn’t planned on it, but now that you mention it...” He grips the backs of Steve’s thighs and hefts them up to rest over his own, spread wide, “…think that’s exactly what I’ll do. I’ll fuck myself, and you’ll lay there and watch me do it.”

Steve falls short on his attempt to bite back a whimper as Bucky wraps a hand around himself and strokes slowly at his length. The way Bucky’s got Steve’s lower half hitched up into his lap has Steve’s cock mere inches away from where Bucky’s rubbing at his own, and it’s a whole new kind of torture.

Especially when Bucky tilts his head back and moans softly.

“ _Oh,_ this feels good, Stevie…so fucking good to be touched…” 

Steve drops his head back against the pillow, scrunches his eyes shut tight and focuses on getting air into his lungs. But Bucky’s not having it. He swats an open hand against Steve’s cheek.

“Hey, you asked for this. You _watch_.”

Steve sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, forces his gaze back to where Bucky’s fist is pumping over his cock, now slick with precum. God, he wants it in his mouth, in his ass, _anywhere_ Bucky wants to put it, if he’ll just fucking _touch him…_

“Lookin’ a little turned on there, pal…” Bucky’s eyes flick down to Steve’s sorely neglected hard on; up to where Steve’s tongue is sweeping over his lips.

Steve nods, sucks in a shaking breath. “Want you so bad, Buck…you got no idea.”

“Want what? Be specific.” Bucky strokes lazily at himself, like he has all the time in the world. He keeps his eyes fixed on Steve’s face, his metal hand gripped at Steve’s thigh.

Steve swallows hard, sifts through his sex-addled brain to pluck out the words that will get him what he needs. The only coherent thing rattling around up there is _Bucky_ and _cock_ and a growing sense of desperation, with a vague chaser of _I can’t feel my hands_.

“I want my asshole boyfriend to let me get off…don’t fucking care how...”

The slap of metal connecting with overheated flesh resounds in Steve’s ears before the sting blooms across his thigh. He gasps, arching into the sharp pleasure-pain.

“If your _asshole boyfriend_ doesn’t hear you run that mouth,” Bucky rubs over the pinkened handprint rising to the surface of Steve’s skin, “you don’t get off at all.”

It’s no empty threat – Bucky’s left him hanging before when he wouldn’t play along, and Steve’s not about to chance it tonight, not when his balls are feeling like they might just be bluer than his eyes; not when he knows how his filthy mouth gets Bucky riled up to the point where he can’t _not_ put his dick in him.

“I want that cock inside me…” He darts his gaze down between Bucky’s legs; sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and lets it slip back out, wet and pink and swollen. “Want it rubbin’ up on that spot that makes me see stars…”

Bucky hums his approval. “Keep talking…”

“I wanna get on my hands and knees for you…feel your hand around the back of my neck, pushing my face into the mattress…ass up in the air…”

Bucky’s breath shakes faintly on the exhale, his strokes slowly picking up pace as he stares down at Steve through heavy-lidded eyes.

Steve arches his back and moans softly. He watches the way Bucky’s eyes trace the curve of his body, and knows he’s got him on the hook.

“I wanna hear your skin hittin’ against mine while you fuck me _rough_ …” Steve’s voice starts to shiver around the edges; getting drawn into the image he’s threading together, woven as much from memory as from fantasy. “You know I’d moan for you, Buck…always so loud for you when you’re givin’ it to me good… _fuck,_ I’m a slut for you…”

Bucky moans, deep and ragged, his head falling back as he jerks himself faster.

“You wanna come in my ass, Bucky? Cause I want it…wanna feel it dripping outta me…”

Bucky’s legs are shaking under Steve, his stomach tensing; so close to losing it. Steve shifts impatiently, tries to rub himself down against Bucky’s thighs, trying to push him over the edge.

“Come on Bucky,” he sighs, “fuck me up… _do_ it…fuckin’ _ruin_ me…”

Bucky’s orgasm hits him with a full body shudder and a primal moan wrenched from the depths of his gut. He digs his fingertips deep into the flesh of Steve’s thigh as he comes all over Steve’s dick, all over his taint, wet and hot and so fucking filthy. He’s breathing hard, a tremor running through him as he comes down from his orgasm, but he pauses only a heartbeat before he’s got his face buried between Steve’s legs, licking his release off Steve’s balls.

Steve groans, rocking his hips against Bucky’s face, pressing into the caress of his tongue; breathy sounds catching in the back of Bucky’s throat as he laps at him. Steve doesn’t know which way is up anymore, and when Bucky crawls up his body and spits his cum into Steve’s open mouth, Steve just moans and rolls his body and _takes_ it.

“Swallow…” Bucky pants against his lips, as if Steve actually needs to be told; as if Steve isn’t already two steps ahead of him. Bucky kisses him, wet and open-mouthed and all tongue-on-tongue, his flesh hand snaking down to rub at Steve’s cock, and it all hits Steve like a freight train. He’s too worked up, too desperate for it; he feels like this time he might really just have an aneurysm and keel over from sheer unmet need.

“Please…” It’s the only word he’s got left, the only thing he knows anymore; breathy and strung-out and every bit as frantic as he suddenly feels.

And God bless him, but for all Bucky loves to play at Steve’s edge, he knows the limit when he sees it. The second the plea hits his ears, he’s back down on his knees between Steve’s legs, hitching Steve’s leg up over his shoulder and pressing a finger against Steve’s cum-slick hole.

Steve is broken down to sounds; moans and sighs and gasps as Bucky works his way inside him, swiping cum off Steve’s skin to slick up his fingers. He’s barely got two into him when Steve starts rocking down to fuck himself on them, begging for Bucky’s still-hard cock, _I can take it, Buck…I need it…just fucking do it already_ …

Bucky pushes the blunt head of himself inside him, and Steve’s back bows up off the mattress. Bucky inches into him, sinking to the hilt with a choked-off groan, and waits for Steve to adjust. When Steve starts rolling his hips against him, pleading with him to move, he drops his weight forward; plants one hand beside Steve’s ribcage, wraps the other around Steve’s dick. He starts fucking into him in sharp, desperate thrusts, angling to find that spot that’ll have Steve setting off car alarms two blocks over.

Bucky knows the second he hits it. The entire apartment building fucking knows when he hits it, and he hammers it. Steve goes liquid beneath him, guttural cries of _ah, ah, ah_ punched out of him with every surge of Bucky’s hips. Bucky matches the stroke of his hand to the rhythm of his thrusts, and he doesn’t even have time to work up a sweat before Steve’s thighs are tensing, his brows drawing together the way they always do when he’s nearing climax. Steve’s been on a knife-edge for half the night by this point, so when Bucky drops forward to bury his face into the crook of Steve’s neck and growls “ _come_ ” against his sweat-slick skin, Steve does.

His entire body shakes with it; heel digging into Bucky’s back, back arching, mouth falling open in a cry that might have the police showing up on their doorstep at any moment, and it’s enough to send Bucky over the edge again with him.

Bucky collapses against his chest, goes lax on top of him; his body moving up and down with the heave of Steve’s ribcage as he fights for his breath back.

“ _Holy_ … _fuck_ …” Bucky pants against his skin, his full weight draped over Steve’s body. “Every goddamn time, I think it can’t get any better…”

Steve can only nod. He feels wholly, thoroughly, perfectly destroyed; broken back down to atoms but somehow still holding his shape. Bucky props himself up on his elbows, and the way he smiles, _beams,_ when he gets a good look at him, tells Steve that he _looks_ every bit of it, too.

“Guess we should get those off you before you lose a hand or something…” Bucky nods toward the handcuffs, and Steve huffs a breathless laugh.

“Yeah,” he wiggles his fingers, trying to get some blood flow happening in his hands, “gonna need both for when I kick your ass for making me wait so long.”

Bucky’s grin widens. “You’re really gonna take me on for that?” He rests his chin on his hand, blinking doe-eyes at Steve. “Wow…Captain America, fighting the good fight once again.”

Steve shakes his head, heaving a deep, sated sigh. “Not the captain in here, remember?”

“Well look at that,” Bucky smirks, pressing a kiss to his chest, “he _can_ be taught.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr now! Come say hi and talk Stucky with me :)


End file.
